


To Keep a Promise

by OpalRainDragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, F/F, F/M, Genocide, M/M, Rape, Self-Harm, Substance Abuse, Suicide, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalRainDragon/pseuds/OpalRainDragon
Summary: Harry has made an impossible promise to Draco and he doesn't know how he can keep it when everything is slowly falling to pieces around them. Can he face down his demons - both inside and outside - and conquer the darkness enveloping the world? Or will he fail?Sequel to When the Snow Melts.Warnings: DracoxHarry. RonxHermione. M/M M/F Sexual Content, Violence, Torture, Rape, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Ideation, just a lot of dark and unsavory shit really. You have been warned.





	1. Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to When the Snow Melts. If you haven't read that one yet, I highly recommend that you do. Otherwise you'll be horribly lost. The same warnings from that story will apply here. Please remember to comment, give kudos, and add this story to your subscription. It will really help me find motivation when I feel like the world is falling to shit around me.
> 
> Also, thanks everyone for helping me get When the Snow Melts into 4th place for the #drarry tag on Wattpad. It was only for a week, but it was a huge ego boost.
> 
> Lots of love - OpalRainDragon

****“Draco, look - I’m doing it,” Farren gleefully shouted from atop a galloping white and chocolate-brown mare as he slowly moved to stand. Harry, his face lit up with a brilliant smile, followed closely behind on a sandy-colored stallion that seemed to blend in with the rolling yellow hills behind them.

With a roll of his eyes, Draco retreated from the sweltering summer heat, taking refuge under the shade of an ancient oak tree where he could draw in peace. It was late afternoon already, but apparently the sun hadn't gotten the message. A completely useless charmed fan by his side blew stifling hot and humid air directly into his face.

He let out a disgusted sigh and glanced back longingly at the sweet relief of air conditioning just waiting for them inside the secluded ranch house they’d been using as a safe house. It was so close, he was even willing to tolerate the disaster that passed for accommodations just to have a taste of it. He just wasn’t cut out for Central Texas living.

Unfortunately, Farren and Harry seemed to be enjoying themselves, even going so far as to offer their assistance with some of the daily chores.

The two of them had even managed to guilt Draco into volunteering to collect eggs one morning. It had seemed like an easy enough task until he had been forced to flee in terror as the little monsters swarmed him, demanding food by clawing and pecking at his delicate skin in a wild frenzy.

After the initial trauma had worn off, a passionate hatred for the foul-tempered poultry had blossomed. He sincerely felt with every fiber of his being that they deserved to be eaten. He even got a little flutter of happiness every time they were on the menu, tearing into his meal with a gleeful vengeance, shoving down more than he could stomach out of pure spite. Come what may, he was going to have the final laugh in this situation.

In his place, Farren had taken over egg-collecting duties, explaining to Draco with a smug expression on his indecently tanned face, that he needed to throw feed out on the yard first so most of the chickens vacated the hen house before venturing inside. Draco was unimpressed and unwilling to give it a second try. He was ill-suited for these kinds of things anyway.

“Draco, come join us,” Harry suggested teasingly as he steered his horse around. “It’s actually a lot of fun.”

Draco’s silvery eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched his lover’s galloping approach. “I’d rather not die, thank you,” Draco growled in irritation, his attention now solidly focused on the mangy, straw-colored beast.

Said beast pulled up short just yards away from Draco and let loose an impatient snort that set his nerves on edge. Just like the chickens, the horses weren’t very fond of him either. Animals in general just seemed to dislike him. It had been like that for as long as he could remember. That’s why they never had any pets or familiars.

Harry dismounted and gave the horse free-reign to trot away before plopping himself down under the ancient oak tree next to Draco, his warm, sweaty body uncomfortably close.

“Please get away from me; you smell terrible,” Draco griped with a wrinkle of his nose, the stench of horse and sweat and summer heat overpowering his senses.

Harry laughed and leaned in closer, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You don't smell much better,” Harry teasingly replied. “Maybe we should help each other in the shower… really make sure we get all the nooks and crannies.”

Despite his sour mood and the stench, Draco found himself fighting back a smile at the thought. “I suppose it can't be helped,” he stated with a dramatic flourish.

Harry gave him a hungry grin before turning his attention back to the field, his eyes following Farren as the boy turned his horse in their direction.

“Oi, Farren. Draco and I are heading inside to wash up before dinner. Think you can handle stabling the horses by yourself or do you need my help?” Harry called out.

“I can do it,” Farren shouted back, an excited smile lighting up his face.

Draco frowned as his brother took off, chasing down Harry’s horse and leaning out to grab the reins. “Are you sure about that?” Draco asked in a voice just above a whisper. “It might be dangerous.”

A proud smile spread across Harry’s face when the boy finally caught hold of the other horse’s reins and slowed him down to a leisurely trot. “He’s doing just fine,” Harry stated with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Besides, he's eleven, not three. I was doing a lot more dangerous things at his age, so stop babying him.”

“Yeah, but your whole life has been wrought with dysfunction, so how does that even make sense? I just want to keep him safe,” Draco shot back. In all honesty, Farren might very well be the only family he had left. No one had heard anything so far about their parents.

“There’s nothing to worry about. He’s really good at this sort of stuff,” Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's shoulders and pulled him in close to whisper playfully in his ear. “And unlike you, the horses like him.”

Draco scoffed and shoved him away. “I don’t need the approval of dumb beasts to feel good about myself,” he arrogantly replied.

Farren moved confidently across the grounds, but even still Draco had serious misgivings about leaving the boy alone unsupervised. His mother had entrusted his care to him, but as Harry had said, he seemed to know what he was doing. With a resigned sigh, Draco stood and headed to the house.

He made his way carefully through the shrub brush, small clouds of red dust kicking up behind him with every step. There was a noticeable crunching sound as Harry followed, crushing sun-crisped grass underfoot just a few feet behind him. Draco fought the urge to turn around and glare at Harry. He couldn’t let the boy get too full of himself.

The view of the safe house at the top of the hill was rather unimpressive - a small, three-bedroom ranch house with a large porch looking out on shrubland dotted infrequently with scraggly trees. The oak tree near the horse pasture was the largest tree on the property and it likely only got that big because of the stock pond lying right next to it. Everything else seemed in desperate need of water, all of it, including himself, baking under the hot summer sun.

Their hosts, the Hughes’, had actually lived in that house about a decade ago, but the family had lucked out during an oil boom and made a small fortune on the treasure lying under the soil of their ranch. They’d had a larger house built on the property and put up a small wind farm to keep the money flowing. They’d even given up cattle ranching entirely, but had kept the horses and pigs… and unfortunately, the chickens.

The steps of the porch groaned under his weight as he trudged up them and headed for the door. Likewise, the door itself squealed in protest as he roughly yanked it open. The house gave every impression of being tired and old.

“How do people even live like this?” he grumbled, spinning around in the hallway to look Harry in the eyes.

Behind the sparkling brilliance of dust moats catching the light of the sun shining through the front door, Harry snorted in amusement. “Don’t be such a snob. This is how normal people live.”

Draco crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “It’s disgusting. I can’t wait until we get back to civilization. Where did the Headmaster even find these muggles anyway?”

“No clue,” Harry replied with a shrug. “He said something about having a mutual friend. But, it’s not like we have people lining up to host us or anything. The Chosen One and the son of a Death Eater turned traitor. Yep, loads of people want to bring that sort of hazard into their life. You should try being a little more grateful. If not for the Hughes’ kindness, we’d have been stashed away in St. Mungos all summer with your little brother slowly driving us insane out of sheer boredom.”

Harry moved to pull him into a tight hug, but Draco held him at bay, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Not until after you’ve had a shower,” he admonished.

“Thought you were going to help me?” Harry questioned with a devilish smirk.

“Did I? I’m not sure I remember making any such commitment.”

Harry shrugged nonchalantly before turning to leave. “That’s fine. I’ll just go see if David wants to help me instead. I’ve got this really itchy mosquito bite right between my shoulder blades where I can’t reach. I’m sure he’ll be glad to scratch it for me while we’re at it.”

David was the Hughes middle child, just a few years older than the boys, and staying at the Main House while on summer break from college. He had a certain rugged charm about him, but Draco was fairly certain he was not interested in men.

“Now that I’d like to see,” Draco remarked, but when Harry made a move for the door with a smug and determined expression on his face, Draco stopped him, taking him by the hand and dragging him to the Master Bedroom that they’d been sharing. “On second thought, he’s probably never done something like that before and he might miss some spots. I don’t want to have to clean you a second time when he finally returns you.”

Harry let out a warm chuckle as he was dragged upstairs, through the cramped Master bedroom and into the Master bathroom where Draco finally stopped with an exasperated expression on his face.

He kept his eyes on Harry as they undressed, pointedly ignoring the hideous pink tiles that surrounded them. Hearty food and manual labor had added several layers of lean muscle to Harry’s shorter frame. Despite Draco frequently grumbling about protecting his skin from sun damage, he had to admit that Harry looked good with bronzed skin. He looked good even though his tan made the criss-cross of scars all over his body painfully obvious.

Biting his lip to keep his cool, he crossed over the porcelain clawfoot tub and turned the water on. The water came out of the tap almost warm enough to shower in so Draco quickly undressed and stepped in before Harry had a chance to. He had a complicated shower routine and he didn’t quite trust Harry to manage it. It would be easier just to get things over and done with so he could move on to the more pleasing task of scrubbing down his lover. He’d initially been horrified to learn that Harry used some off-brand muggle 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner abomination. His messy hair suddenly made a lot more sense. Those products met their end shortly thereafter and were immediately replaced with something better suited to his needs.

The shower head was low and he found he had to duck down to get the water to run over his hair. It was at that precise moment while he was leaning forward that Harry joined him, wrapping strong arms around his waist. Harry held him tight, preventing the tumble that surely would have occurred otherwise, his breath warm against the back of Draco’s neck.

“What’s the matter?” Harry whispered huskily.

Draco’s heart was still pounding from the sudden spike of adrenaline. “You,” he scolded, “if you want to leave me for David, you don’t have to kill me first. We can just break up like normal human beings.”

“Is that how it works?” he questioned, pulling Draco flush against his chest as he tried to squirm out of his embrace. “But you said it yourself, he won’t get me as clean as you can.”

“So you’re just using me for my showering skills?” Draco questioned in an aggrieved tone of voice. “I thought you loved me.”

“Showering skills... and other things,” he replied suggestively, running a hand along Draco’s lean chest.

Draco turned around to face Harry, a mischievous smirk on his face. “By other things, do you mean this?” he questioned, slowly dropping to his knees to take Harry’s hard cock into his mouth with a slight sucking action.

Harry let out a deep moan, his fingers running through Draco’s hair. “Something… something like… that,” he replied between moans.

Draco continued to work his tongue along Harry’s length, his head bobbing up and down, his hands holding him steady at the hips to prevent him from bucking unexpectedly. Draco backed off slightly, concentrating on the sensitive head and sucking hard, his tongue swirling around for added stimulation. He could feel the tension building up in his lover’s body, his muscles tightening under his hands - Harry was close.

Harry’s hips jerked with a rapturous cry, his passion erupting into Draco’s hungry mouth. The taste had changed slightly - tangy and a bit bitter. Even still, Draco swallowed it down, continuing to suck until he had pulled every last drop, until Harry was twitching and jerking, his knees trembling as he struggled to stay standing.

“Was that a good enough reason to keep me around?” Draco questioned with a sly smile on his face as he peered up at him through wet bangs. Harry could only nod, his fingers still tightly entwined in Draco’s hair to keep himself steady.

 


	2. Blue Skies and Clean Living

Having dinner with the Hughes’ reminded Harry of having dinner with the Weasley’s - albeit a lot less chaotic as there were fewer people and nothing magical flying about. They had three children in total - two boys in their early twenties named David and Thomas and ‘a  _ happy little accident’ _ they named Samantha who was just turning ten. 

The boys looked so similar that they could have passed for twins - dark hair and dark eyes, tall, boxy, slightly rugged features, and sun-browned skin - it was astonishing to learn that there was a three year age gap between them. Their sister, however, didn’t look like she belonged in the family at all. She was petite with wispy strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes that often sparkled with mischief. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hughes were an odd match as well - complete opposites really. Sherman Hughes was rail-thin and bald with muddy brown eyes, while Agnes Hughes was pleasantly plump with long gray hair that she often wore loose and sky-blue eyes. They didn’t interact much, but when they did, you could almost sense the depth of their feelings for one another. It made Harry slightly envious knowing that he’d never live long enough to experience that with Draco.

The table had grown quiet, Mrs. Hughes’ nervous eyes kept darting to the doorway, waiting for the last of her children to finish washing up and come downstairs to join them so they could start eating.

“Sorry I’m late,” Thomas apologized sheepishly as he took a seat at the table. “Javier had a group down from Dallas that wanted to go on a guided hunting trip. He was short-handed today and asked me to help him out. Those dumbasses…” he winced as his mother shot him a warning look before continuing. “...they thought spear-hunting wild boar while drinking was a wonderful idea.”

He scooped a huge serving of mashed potatoes onto his plate and passed the dish down with a shake of his head. “It didn’t end well. One of them froze up and took a tusk to the knee. It got pretty nasty and we had to put the boar down with a shotgun.”

Thomas began smiling fondly at the memory, totally oblivious to the horrified expression on Draco’s blood-drained face. They’d all seen quite a few wild boars on the property by that point.

“City-boy’ll probably be fine though,” Thomas announced with a chuckle. “Once he heals, he’ll have a mean-looking scar that he can use to pick up chicks with.”

Harry watched as Draco nervously eyed the bloody slab of brisket on his plate, no doubt envisioning one of those wild boars out in the field catching them wandless and unaware.

A deep rumble of thunder off in the distance broke up the prolonged silence. Mrs. Hughes glanced out the big bay window of the dining room as she set down a basket of rolls.

“Should’ve figured we was gonna get rain - my head’s been aching all day,” she commented, her blue eyes studying the dark clouds rolling in from the south. “Looks like it’s gonna be a mean one too. You boys should hurry up and eat so you can get back before it starts pouring.”

Harry nodded, stabbing his fork into a mountain of fried veggies, and bringing them to his mouth. The air felt electric, a trickle of excitement ran through him at the prospect of another summer thunderstorm. A deep rumble reverberated through his chest and he sighed in anticipation before tackling the thick slab of brisket that Draco had snuck onto his plate.

Draco continued eyeing his food in a rather dispassionate manner, his nose wrinkled up as he watched bacon grease dripping off the green beans at the end of his fork.

“Dip em’ in the mashed potatoes,” David suggested, probably thinking that it was the green beans that Draco found offensive rather than the thick layer of grease that coated them. He was utterly convinced that all this greasy food would ruin his skin.

Harry polished off the last of his food, secretly relishing the grease and strong seasoning before turning a bright smile on Mrs. Hughes. “Thank you for the wonderful meal. Everything was just amazing,” he gushed, drawing attention to himself long enough for Draco to wandlessly vanish most of the remaining food on his plate.

Draco clinked his fork rather noisily down on his plate with a heavy sigh. “Yes, thank you for the food. I am so full that I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”

Mrs. Hughes beamed at them both as Harry stood, picking up his plate to take it to the kitchen. She waved a hand dismissively in their direction. “Just leave em’ boys. I’ll do the cleanin’ up later. You need to get going before that storm gets here.”

Farren stuffed the last bit of his roll into his mouth, his cheeks puffed up as he attempted to chew his food quickly. He took a big swig of water before letting out a noisy sigh.

“Thank you for the meal,” Farren chirped, scrambling to his feet to join them when Draco started to rise.

Mrs. Hughes ushered them to the door just as the wind started to pick up outside. It wasn’t a particularly long walk to the Guest House, but Harry took his time, his eyes transfixed as dark clouds lit up with the wild criss-cross of lightning. Each flash was quickly followed by a deep rumbling of thunder that reverberated in his chest. The wind whipped his hair about wildly, tugging at his clothes, and making him stagger slightly as it buffeted him. Something about the promise of violence in the storm made him feel alive.

Harry slowly climbed the dilapidated steps of the aging porch and stepped through the doorway just as the bottom dropped out of the clouds. He darted to the living room, staring out through an inky black window. The downpour was so thick you could hardly even see through it. The sound of rain pelting the windows increased to a deafening roar, almost as if it were white noise on a dead radio channel and someone had cranked up the volume to max. A flash of lightning lit up the yard like daylight, the after-images of it disappearing just as thunder shook the whole house. 

The lights flickered briefly and then the whole house was plunged into the kind of darkness so pure that you can only find it this far away from civilization. All at once, everything felt very surreal, an almost dream-like quality tainting his perception of events. A flash of lightning would briefly illuminate the void, casting ominous shadows off the couches and tables. Shortly thereafter a boom of thunder rattling through the void would follow in its wake. It was like a slow-motion strobe light chasing the heavy beating of a drum. His head was starting to ache at the dizzying effect it was having on him. He reached up to take his glasses off and cover his eyes with his other hand, blocking out the sporadic flashes. It felt like he was falling through reality, his body drifting and ungrounded, floating in empty space.

“Harry, are you okay?” Draco questioned, his voice tight and tinged with alarm.

Harry moved his hand away from his face, blinking into the darkness, struggling to get his bearings. Another lightning strike illuminated the room and Draco’s concerned silver eyes very close to his face, but then it all disappeared again. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, closing his eyes tightly against the agony sparking off in his head. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear a child screaming. He clapped his hands over his ears, trying to stop the sound. It felt like it was ripping his mind to pieces.

“Harry. Harry, look at me,” Draco was shouting desperately, his hands on Harry’s shoulders as he shook him. The lights in the house flickered back to life. Harry’s green eyes shot open to meet Draco’s, his chest heaving as they continued to stare at one another.

They were engulfed in a blinding flash of light, the loud crack of thunder that followed shaking them to their very bones. With an air of finality, the room was plunged into darkness without even the hopeful flicker of light teasing at them. Harry felt his head start to swim, stumbling forward, his vision narrowing to just a tiny pinprick, his body tilting as if in slow motion until he landed against something warm and familiar. He was trying to figure out who was screaming, but his mind kept slipping away from him.

“Harry… Harry.... Ha-” 

He was plunged into darkness, Draco’s voice disappearing behind him.


	3. Familial Bonds

Harry blinked a few times, eyes slowly adjusting to the soft morning sunlight streaming through the lacy curtains of their bedroom window. His thoughts were fuzzy and broken like he was still dreaming. The only thing he was certain of was the soft body pressed against his side, limbs entwined with his. 

Frowning, he closed his eyes, struggling to recall how he’d gotten in bed in the first place. All he could remember was the thunderstorm rolling in and then… a child screaming? His stomach let out an angry rumble, forcing him to consider the possibility that he might have been out for days this time.

Draco shifted next to him, lifting his head with a tired smile, dark circles marring his pale face. “Morning,” he greeted softly.

Harry grew tense, his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. “How long was I out this time?”

Draco yawned and rubbed at his eyes before casually replying, “Just a day and a half.”

Suspicions confirmed, his stomach flip-flopped unpleasantly. “I thought these episodes were supposed to be getting shorter and less frequent.”

“Severus seems to think it was a fluke. It’s actually been a while since your last one,” the blond reminded, snuggling reassuringly against his shoulder.

Harry ran his hand along Draco’s arm with a sigh. “I know,” he grumbled. “I’m just tired of feeling like I can’t trust myself.”

Draco pulled him closer, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You’re being too hard on yourself,” he whispered, his soft breath ruffling Harry’s messy bangs. “You were tortured by Aunt Bella for months. Not even Severus can figure out how you kept your sanity. You just have to give yourself time.”

Harry felts his worries slowly melting away. “You’re right,” he whispered back, allowing Draco’s warmth to ground him to what was real. No dream could feel like this. He just had to have faith. Things would work out… somehow.

“Want to help Mrs. Hughes with breakfast?” Draco suggested with a tentative smile.

It was a shock to hear - Draco offering to help make breakfast. It was so unlike Draco. Harry felt a flood of happiness wash over him to realize that Draco was making an effort just to please him. It was his way of showing that he cared about the things that Harry cared about, that he was willing to do something unpleasant for Harry’s sake. He wanted to smother the boy in kisses, but the painful knot of hunger in his stomach shifted with another noisy rumble, reminding him that it had other plans, plans that didn’t involve kissing every square inch of lily-white skin he could find.

“Breakfast… yeah,” Harry agreed with a nervous chuckle.

After they finished making themselves presentable, they rushed downstairs and out through the front door. The morning air was already hot and humid, pressing against them from all sides as they trudged across the burnt yellow yard that stretched between the guest house and the main house. They cut a steady path heading straight for the back door and the welcome return to air conditioning.

As soon as they stepped inside, they were greeted with the pleasant aroma of breakfast cooking. Mrs. Hughes was humming in the kitchen, tongs in hand, standing ready to flip the bacon frying in a cast-iron skillet. Her face lit up when she caught sight of the two of them. The tongs were quickly set aside so that she could rush over to him, pulling him into a smothering hug.

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better,” she exclaimed, tightening her grip on him as if she were trying to squeeze all her feelings into him. Despite being puzzled by her affection, a warmth settled in his chest, slowly spreading until it filled him.

Draco eyed the two of them awkwardly before clearing his throat, his face flushing as he asked, “What can we do to help with breakfast?”

She pulled away from Harry, her eyes widening as she turned to examine the blonde without even trying to disguise her surprise. “You can…” she paused, sniffing at the air, her eyes darting to the bacon that had begun smoking. 

She hastily pulled the skillet off the burner and moved it to an unlit one. “I’ve got everything under control,” she assured them with an embarrassed smile. “How about you boys go and watch some TV in the living room? I’ll let you know when breakfast is done.”

Harry’s face twitched, a smile pulling at his lips as he watched the profound look of relief wash over Draco at her words.

“Sounds good,” the blonde answered in a rush, grasping Harry’s hand and pulling him away before Harry could insist on helping.

With the curtains closed, the living room was somewhat dim. Large floral print furniture made it feel slightly crowded but in a cozy sort of way. Thomas was lounging on the main couch, bathed in the flickering light of the TV screen in front of him.

Draco dragged Harry across the room, pulling him down to half-sit on Draco’s lap in the plush loveseat against the far wall.

“Would ya look at that?” the TV blared. Harry glanced over at it as an older man in rubber trousers held up a glistening green fish that was almost as long as he was tall. He had an idiotic grin on his face as he showed the camera-man his prize. “This biggin’ put up quite the fight.”

Thomas leaned forward on the couch, his eyes sparkling enviously as he watched them weigh and measure the monstrosity. 

Neither boy quite understood the appeal of shows like this one and quickly found their attention wandering. It was nice though, just sitting here like this without any immediate obligations or concerns. It felt normal. Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder and let out a contented sigh.

“You really like it here?” Draco questioned softly, shifting slightly to get a better view of Harry’s face.

Harry smiled softly, his gaze passing over the living room, taking in the walls filled with family photos, a handful of toys lying haphazardly on the floor, the coffee table decorated with fake flowers and a blue ceramic bowl filled with faded potpourri. “Yeah,” he whispered.

Draco frowned, glancing around the living room as Harry had done, his nose wrinkling slightly. “Why?” he questioned in confusion.

“It reminds me of how it was like with the Weasley’s before… well before Voldemort and that prophecy and everything else. It was exactly how I always imagined being in a proper family would feel like.”

Draco searched his eyes as if trying to grasp some unfathomable answer that would explain everything. Harry didn’t know if there was a better way to explain it. How could he explain that his fondest memories of growing up with the Dursley’s were when they ignored his very existence? How he lived for the days that they left him alone in his tiny cupboard, far away from their hateful words and judgmental looks. How he spent hours imagining what life would have been like if his parents hadn’t died? As messed up as Draco’s life had been, his family had always loved him… even when that didn’t seem to be the case. How do you explain the appeal of a family to someone who has always taken theirs for granted?

“Breakfast is ready,” Mrs. Hughes called out from the doorway, pulling them both out of troubling thoughts. 

“Thomas, let your brother and father know,” she commanded. 

Thomas groaned in response before he switched off the TV and trudged up the stairs. She shook her head with a heavy sigh as she watched his progress. When he had disappeared from view, she turned in their direction with an affectionate smile.

“Draco, will you bring the kids in and make sure they wash their hands?” she requested, gesturing out the window to indicate Farren and Sam’s location. Draco bristled slightly, still unaccustomed to being asked to do things like help children wash up. A laugh threatened to escape from Harry’s throat when he marveled at how domestic it all seemed.

“And Harry dear,” she continued, her blue eyes focusing on him with a slightly concerned expression on her round face, “...go have yourself a seat and get started before my boys devour everything. I imagine you must be starving.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone in silence. Harry gave Draco a smug smile. “Guess I’ll get started on breakfast,” he teased. “I’ll try and leave you some bacon, but I’m not making any promises. I’m apparently starving after all.”

Draco shoved him off the loveseat and leaned forward. “Whatever scar-head,” he grumbled, staring down at him with the barest traces of a smirk forming on his face.

Neither moved for quite a while until the thundering footsteps coming down the stairs reminded them of their assigned tasks. They both jumped to their feet and headed off in opposite directions.

Harry took a seat at the kitchen table, where Mrs. Hughes immediately piled his plate high with food - eggs, bacon, pancakes, grits - more food than he could ever hope to eat in one sitting. He gave her a nervous smile and picked up his fork.

Thomas and David rushed in soon after, taking the seats directly opposite him. They quickly filled their plates with almost as much food as Harry had. It was amazing how the two could stay so fit with how much food they devoured at every meal. “They’re growing boys,” Mrs. Hughes would always explain with a shrug, despite the fact that both young men were definitely beyond their  _ growing years _ .

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” David teased as he crumbled a slice of bacon into his grits before adding cheese and butter. 

“Yeah,” Harry sheepishly replied. “It’s good to be back.”

Draco was next to enter, Samantha’s tiny little hand gripping his. Harry couldn’t help but find the situation adorable despite the disgruntled expressions on both Draco’s and Farren’s faces. Samantha took the seat next to David with a pout, her eyes following Draco as he sat between Farren and Harry. 

Mr. Hughes strode into the room, his eyes roaming over the table until they landed on Harry. “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he remarked as he took his seat at the head of the table.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, his face flushing from all the attention he was receiving from them.

After serving her husband, Mrs. Hughes stopped hovering about the table and took her seat as well. “Sorry the bacon’s a bit burnt,” she apologized unnecessarily. No one seemed to care about burnt bacon. Harry certainly didn’t. Even had it been bits of charcoal, Harry would have still eaten it just the same.

David added bacon and eggs to his sister’s pancake, arranging them so that it appeared to be a silly face before he dribbled syrup tears from its eggy eyes to the edges of the plate. She giggled, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Farren to see if he had noticed. His cheeks flushed slightly when their eyes met and he quickly glanced away.

Harry let out a happy sigh as he scanned the room, his eyes catching on that little bit of a smile on Draco’s face as he watched his little brother. Maybe Draco felt it too - that feeling of family?


End file.
